Needful Things
by Ademska
Summary: A quick story from Draco's POV of when he first learned he needed Harry Potter.


Needful Things

They say opposites attract. Mind you, I am not one for senseless cliché, but it does have bearing on my story. The truism is false. If you are a doxy then you are best suited to be with a doxy, not a fire crab. However there is one truth to the cliché; need.

If you need something you'd better find your self someone who can supply it to you. How would it work out if you were an invalid and needed constant care and you married another invalid? Not very will, for the both of you.

Now, I'm sure that you could think of other things for which an opposite would be ideal, but don't nitpick me, this is my story remember.

Following the much over uses cliché, if you need love you should find someone or something that can fulfill your need, not someone who also needs it, as I've already said. However you must take into account what kind of love you seek first.

Alright, calm down, don't lose your head, you'd look right silly walking around with out it; I'll just get to the story then.

You could say it started a while ago, but if you need a specific date, I'd say, the 5th of June, 1998, my birthday. You see, I was depressed, and therefore not being as cautious as I should have been. I was sick of being amongst Muggle's. The war had begun and it was too dangerous for me to be out in the open. I just wanted to be in the company of another wizard, hell; I would have been fine with a squib.

I didn't really expect to find anyone who wasn't a Muggle, but I thought the walk might make me feel better. I rounded the corner in to the Main Square of the tiny little village were I was hiding. Main Square was a drastic over-statement. There was a tea house, a small store, a diner, a tiny library one third the size of mine at the manor, and a healer, or what Muggles call doctor. I was headed for the tea house.

I nearly walked in to the one person I would have given anything not walked into. His eyes were spectacular, as they always were, showing a flash of emotion; surprise, recognition, fright, anger, then surprise again. I'm sure my eyes read the same way. It was obvious that he didn't know I was here, he was not sent here to find me; my first guess would have been that he was hiding too.

Hiding wasn't actually the truth. Alright, it is, but it was not my choice, I was ordered to. I would have rather been out doing something. Like looking for Harry Potter and bringing him to The Dark Lord. Well, it seems I had stumbled upon The Chosen One himself, in that dirty Muggle village. Not quite the birthday gift I had expected, but I nice surprise if I may see so.

You have to understand that my intentions with him at that point were purely wicked, and only beneficial to myself, and maybe The Dark Lord. I had no idea that I had just accidentally stumbled across, and almost into, the very thing I had been looking for since that night I left Hogwarts. How could I have known that I would grow to miss the one thing I hated the most about my days at that school? Harry Potter.

"You," He said, the slightest quiver in his voice, had I not been so aware of him at the very moment, I might have missed.

He recovered from his shock and confusion of seeing me very well, but not nearly fast as I did though.

"I do have a name Potter, or have you just forgotten it?" I replied in my most sarcastic and condescending tone.

"Prat"

Prat?

After years of name calling, that's the best he could come up with?

"Well I see you have mastered the pithy comeback." I'm so patronizing.

He just stared at me; with those damn piercing green eyes of his. Why did he have to have those eyes? Green eyes are fine, but that emerald shine they have is overwhelming.

We were lucky that there were no Muggles walking the streets at that very moment. I'm sure we must have looked very odd; two young men just standing there, only a few feet between them, staring at each other.

His eyes, when they finally did move from mine, scanned down to my feet then back up, his head not moving. I felt for a second like a slave up on the auction block; the feeling both disgusting and exhilarating at the same time. The softest smile curled up in the corners of his mouth. "Is this your imitation of a Muggle?"

What the hell was wrong with my clothes? I remember exactly what I had on that day, because it was my birthday, so I tried to dress my best and look like a Muggle, which I think I pulled off fine. I was wearing blue jeans in a dark blue shade, a white t-shirt, black boots, and a black jacket. It was early June; but it was a cool day, storming on and off, completely over cast, so I needed a jacket.

Ok, so I didn't have a jacket, I had to alter my cloak, but it cut off just at my hips and I thought is looked well. "What wrong with it?"

"Nothing, it's good," he said kindly, his eyes glancing down again, "It's surprising."

Surprising? I wanted to kill him, and not with my wand either. I wanted tackle him to the ground and strangle him with my bare hands. I am sorry for using another cliché, but it accurately describes how I felt.

I've know for a long time now that hatred is only a minute fraction away from lust. It was in fact that very moment that I crossed the borderline.

Now I know what you are thinking. I did mention that the saying opposites attract is farce in most cases, in my mind anyway. You may think that Harry Potter and myself are just about as opposite two people can get. It may seem so, on the outside, but people aren't defined by their outside. Again with the overused phrases, I won't even mention it, you get the point.

Almost as soon as I realized that had crossed that proverbial line, Potter realized that he was indeed talking to one of the most wanted people in the wizarding community, and drew his wand.

"Glad we got that out of the way, now you'll have to come with me," he said in a low but powerful voice.

"You actually think you can make me go anywhere, would you put that away, it's insulting and a Muggle might see."

"I don't give a damn about your feelings Malfoy, any if a Muggle see they can have their memory altered."

"You couldn't take me before, what makes you think you can now?" I bit in my remarkably snotty tone.

I was glad I had decided to alter and wear my cloak. The sleeves were still a little long and my wand had been in my hand the whole time, but he didn't know that.

I was feeling the tiniest bit threatened by The Golden Boy. You see, he could always hide his feelings well. I learned how to read him sometime in our third year. His face can tell you I hate you but his eyes will be saying kiss me. That night, it was the other way around, sort of. His face was empty, maybe even still a little shock, but the truth lay behind those rounds frames; pure, unadulterated loathing.

"Would you quit being do bloody pompas," he spat stepping toward me, "I could kill you in an instant and no one would miss you. Snape is not here to protect you this time."

My mind went blank momentarily. He meant it. He was no longer keeping his rage in his eyes; it was out right, blatant, for all to see. He could have done it, he could have killed me; there was no doubt about it.

Needless to say he didn't.

It all happened in an instant, but my actions in that instant were superb.

I said it had been storming on and off all day, well at that very moment it decided to start up again. A bolt of lightning struck very near us somewhere, the flash was almost blinding and the thunder that boomed directly after rattled my stomach.

I was shaken up, as he was but I used it to my advantage. I grabbed his wand hand and stiff shouldered him back into the wall of the small store, brining his hand up above his shoulder and pressing it firmly to the brick. His wand slid behind his neck, while mine fell into place at his throat. His other hand was in the control of mine and braced to the wall outstretched to the side, level with his other. My waist presses firmly against his pinning his midsection to the wall.

He struggled against my hold, but he stayed pinned to the wall.

"I'm stronger then you remember aren't I?" I asked him.

I am still very proud of my move there, I wish I had a picture of it maybe I'll commission a painting.

Our faces were just inches apart, his breath smelled of honey tea biscuits form the tea house, the very snack I was in search of.

"You won't win."

"It looks to my like I'm winning right now."

He shot a blasting spell, a good attempt I must say, but hit his own hand, leaving a black starburst. His face stayed strong, but those eyes read the truth again.

"That was a nice try, but you might really hurt yourself if you try it again."

"I hate you," he lied.

"If you're gonna lie, you have to mean it Potter."

I'm sorry but screwing with him is so fun, because he never realizes I'm messing with him. He just gets so mad.

It was raining pretty hard by the time he stopped trying to wiggle out of my hold. Our hair was plastered to out foreheads. Tiny little drops clung to his glasses. I could see his eyes fighting to focus on me instead of them.

"So where is your crew?" I asked, because I was really curious.

"What crew?" he growled at me. He was trying to sound like a lion and frighten me off, but all I heard was the loving purr of tame house cat.

"Don't play with me Potter, where are Granger and Weasley? Oh, yeah, and the little weasel, how are thing going with her, married and kids?

"They didn't stay with me, I'm alone."

I of course didn't believe him.

"You didn't answer all my questions."

"I broke up with Ginny last May."

He said it casually as if she had meant nothing to him. His eyes were hard to read then, but I thought I saw a hint of confusion.

"Did you love her?"

"No," he answered sadly.

"You did, you still do."

"No, I don't," he replied, "I did, yes, but I learned a while ago that I didn't really love her."

I'm not stupid, so I wouldn't put it past Harry Potter to play noble and deny his love in hope of protecting her. As a matter of fact, I would have bet money that that's what he'd do; but those brilliant jade's showed me he was telling the truth. Then I saw it, I understood everything.

"I see, you love the unattainable. You lust for something you shouldn't. I see it now, plain as day. So tell me is it the Mudblood, or the other Weasel? "

The truth was I really didn't see what I thought I saw, but there was no way I couldn't have.

The bastard little prick wiggled one leg free and kicked me in the groin then shoved me back. I fell on to my back in the most pain I'd been in since Snape used the Cruciatus curse on me because I wouldn't give him one of my chocolate frogs, but back to this story.

Sorry I do tend to get side tracked sometimes.

Anyway; he jumped on top of me and held my hands above my head. It hurt; he slammed his boney ass down on my nether region, which was still extremely sensitive.

"You're right, I do lust for the unattainable."

He said in a rage I haven't seen in a long time.

"I need love, and there is no one who can supply it to me."

Ok he didn't really say that but he might as well have.

"I need you. I was wrong when I said I could kill you and no one would miss you. One person would."

Remember when I was talking about those people who need and opposites. You see Harry Potter and I both needed love at that very moment, even though I wouldn't have told anyone. I am half tempted to say that I didn't really need love, but the hell with it, I did.

Although we both needed it, we needed it for different reasons. This is going to sound lame, but it's the truth. I needed it because I had so much love from my parents and everyone else that I was having withdrawals. Potter had not been loved that much throughout his life that he was in dire need of it.

So I guess you could say they we were the same and opposite at the same time, if that makes any sense. Well it does to me. I guess I'm not that good of a story teller.

I can't tell you if this is one of those happily ever after stories or not, but I can tell you that if Harry Potter doesn't stop tickling my foot right now, he won't live happily ever after.


End file.
